But Not Forgotten
By
A. Rhea King
MOUNT CHARLESTON, NEVADA : PRESENT
A downpour had deluged the area for several hours and drenched Greg, Grissom, and Nick as they had loaded the SUV with rappelling gear. They headed north towards Mount Charleston and by the time they met with the search and rescue team, the rain had let up to a light drizzle.
Grissom watched Nick, Greg, and the SAR teams disappear over the edge of the cliff as he walked toward it. Thirty feet below he could see the lights of the car, but the darkness of night concealed everything else.
This particular spot of Deer Creek Highway was a death trap for unsuspecting drivers. Grissom found himself out here at least once a week to investigate an accident scene were a driver that misjudged how sharp the corner was, or was too drunk to judge anything, or had a vehicle malfunction. All of which sent them careening through the guard rail, over the edge, and down into the steep sided canyon. The only way into the canyon was by the means of these unfortunate drivers, rappelling, or the canyon entrance one mile to the southwest. Grissom had serious doubts that they were going to be rescuing anything but a corpse.
"State patrol noticed the railing broke, again, and called it in," Brass said, joining Grissom.
Grissom's phone let out a shrill beep before Nick started talking, "Grissom, we've got a hearse down here with a coffin in it. No plates."
Grissom moved a little closer to the edge.
"A hearse is different," Brass commented.
He keyed the button on the side of his phone and asked, "Is there a body in the coffin?"
"We're still trying to figure out how to get to it. Hold on a minute."
It took twenty minutes for SAR to free the coffin from the mangled hearse.
Nick's voice came across Grissom's phone again, "The hearse caught fire at some point, but the rain must have put it out, because the coffin in the back is only charred. Greg and a couple guys here are getting it out, we'll know in a minute or two what's inside."
"Murder cover up?" Brass asked Grissom.
"Anything's possible."
"Grissom," Greg said over his phone. "I think someone was kept alive in here for a while. There are eye screws in the side with plastic ties attached to them. A couple of them have blood on them and they all look like they were cut with something blunt, maybe a rock. There's a torn sports jacket with blood on it. Geeze, Grissom, there is a lot of blood and brain matter at the foot of the coffin."
"Get everything covered before the rain can wash away any more evidence."
"Do you really think someone could have walked away from that?" Brass asked Grissom.
Grissom cocked his head a little, and then looked in the direction the canyon exited. "If someone did, there's only one way out of this canyon without climbing gear."
Brass looked in the same direction. "The desert. They went straight from the frying pan to fire."
Grissom frowned. If the person in the coffin was alive, Grissom was certain they were hurt, and the desert was a bad place for an injured person to be, night or day.